The Woman He Underestimated

The Jilted Heiress: Her Secret Billionaire Life

I returned to the city for the only person who ever truly loved me—my dying grandfather. As the "forgettable" daughter of the wealthy Clemons family, I had spent years hiding my true identity as a world-class elite behind oversized hoodies and a silent, exhausted demeanor. But the welcome home was a nightmare. My family made it clear I was nothing more than a parasite, unaware that I had just saved a powerful stranger's life on the train or that I was the silent partner of the very club they were visiting. While they sipped champagne in a VIP penthouse I had secretly upgraded for them, they left me standing outside in a freezing downpour for hours. My cousin Belle recorded me, laughing as she called me a "drowned rat" for her social media followers. My father, Glyn, even sent me a formal notice revoking my access to the family trust, thinking he was cutting off my only means of survival. He had no idea my private bank account held eighty-five million dollars. The betrayal cut even deeper when I discovered the darkest truth: they were swapping my grandfather’s life-saving medication for cheap generics just to pocket the extra cash. I stood in the mud, watching the people who shared my DNA celebrate their greed while they slowly killed the man who raised me. How could they be so blind? How could they treat me like trash while they lived off the crumbs of my secret success? "Enjoy it while it lasts," I whispered against the cold glass. I was done playing the victim and done hiding in the shadows to protect their fragile egos. I pulled out my encrypted phone and dialed my head of security. As an armored Range Rover pulled up to the curb and the city’s most dangerous man watched me from the shadows, I realized I was done being the "charity case." It was time to show the Clemons family who really owned this city.

When A Mafia Heir Broke My Heart

The custom-designed logo I created for Dante Mancini’s new company, a gift for my twenty-second birthday and the supposed start of our life together, slipped from my fingers the moment I heard him tell his consigliere he was faking an engagement to get rid of me. It landed with a soft thud on the plush carpet outside the private room, the sound swallowed by the low thrum of music from the club. My world went silent.

Ghost of a Wife: His Regret

My husband, Mark Davis, a tech titan, paraded his 100th mistress, a social media starlet named Brittany, right in front of me at a high-profile gala. "The young lady had an unfortunate accident; her dress is torn," he sneered, his eyes cold and sharp. "Chloe, lend her yours for the evening. And then take her to the suite upstairs. Make sure she' s perfectly clean." I casually placed my champagne glass down, pulled a folded divorce agreement from my clutch, and handed it to him. "Divorce Agreement," I stated, my voice devoid of emotion. The crowd whispered, scoffing that I'd be begging him back in days, as always. Mark just smirked, tenderly kissing Brittany's forehead, telling her, "She just needs to be reminded of her place." He had no idea. My spirit, my very soul, had already departed. The woman he still believed he tormented was merely a shell. I was already gone. Mark was screaming at a ghost, and the foundations of his world were about to crumble.

No Turning Back Now, Liam

The sheets were still warm, Liam' s scent clinging to the pillows, a familiar comfort in his minimalist apartment. This was our routine for years-best friends who' d blurred the lines into something I thought was real, a future we were building. Then he walked out of the bathroom, casually announcing Olivia, his high school "what if," was back in town; my architectural advice, my city knowledge, repurposed for her date. The name hit me, cold and hard, a revelation that crumbled my world: I was just a convenience, an "easy" placeholder until his long-lost love returned. He left for Olivia' s date, leaving me shattered and exposed in his bed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow-I was simply a tool in a game I didn't even know I was playing. The ultimate betrayal came when he and Olivia, after a car accident where he only cared for her scraped wrist, accused me of being dramatic, and Olivia herself, a toxic sweet poison, physically attacked me, turning Liam' s hatred directly on me. "You psycho! You attacked her!" he roared, utterly convinced by her performance, telling me I was "dead to him." My world, my love, my trust-all annihilated in one devastating night, with the final blow being his utterly blind, unwavering belief in her lies. I watched my life with him, 20 years of friendship and love, reduced to ashes by his callous disregard and an impossible betrayal that left me no choice. There was only one way out, one way to reclaim myself from the ruins he had created. I booked a one-way ticket to Vienna, leaving everything behind, finally ready to build a life on my own terms, block by block, note by note, without him.

The Erased Son

I was a new dad, celebrating my son's one-month birthday at my wealthy in-laws' stunning Napa estate. Life felt perfect, despite my manipulative father-in-law's constant urging to drink. I woke up with a pounding headache to a nightmare: my baby boy was gone. In his crib, lay a baby girl, a complete stranger. My wife, Chloe, and her parents gaslit me, denying my son ever existed. They accused me of being drunk, of rejecting my own child. The world blurred as I was framed for the infant girl's murder. My entire digital life was rewritten, my son's existence erased. Labeled a monster, I was swiftly condemned and executed. The horror was unimaginable, the confusion absolute as I died. But then, I jolted awake, back on that same couch, the party still faintly audible. It was happening again-the terrifying loop of my son's disappearance and my impending doom. Was I insane, or was this a meticulously crafted, cruel conspiracy? This time, the confusion vanished; a cold certainty set in. I wouldn't just be a victim; I would be ready. I would expose their twisted game, reclaim my son, and end this nightmare once and for all.

Borrowed Time, Stolen Life

I gave my best friend, Julian, one of my kidneys. It was a simple decision; he was family. Later, when my father fell ill, needing a transplant, I offered my remaining kidney, willing to risk my own life for him. But then Chloe, my fiancée, abandoned me. A week later, her Instagram was flooded with pictures: happy, healthy Julian, and my Chloe, married, on lavish vacations. I was left with a dying father and crippling debt. That' s when Vicky Hayes, a childhood friend from a powerful healthcare family, appeared, promising salvation. She covered all the medical bills, became my rock, and eventually, my wife. Yet, my father died after the operation, and I was left with an artificial kidney, a constant reminder of my sacrifice. Six years of agony, six years of marriage, and I stumbled upon a conversation that shattered my world. My father never received that kidney. Julian didn't even critically need it. Vicky, my wife, had orchestrated everything, a monstrous lie built on my life and my father's death. She chose Julian over everything, over us. The woman I loved, who saved me, stood revealed as the architect of my deepest pain. Every day of agony, every loss, was her design. How could I have been so blind? My world spun, my blood ran cold, but a chilling clarity descended. This wasn't just betrayal; this was a calculated destruction. I grabbed my phone, pressed record, and began to plan.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.

Reborn And Remade: Pursued By The Billionaire

In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.